


When She Grows Up

by ArgylePirateWD



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-10 13:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6987730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgylePirateWD/pseuds/ArgylePirateWD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Officer Joanna Reece arrests a teenage girl who reminds her a lot of herself, and young Jo Martinez meets the person she may want to be when she grows up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When She Grows Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of based on the [ficathon prompt,](http://foreverficathon.tumblr.com/post/143778226561/jo-goes-against-her-fathers-wishes-and-joins-the) _Jo goes against her fathers wishes and joins the police force. She doesn't want to be like her father - who taught her to be a criminal,_ but it takes place before that. I've been wanting to write more Reece for a while, because she's amazing, saw the prompt, and went, "Hey, why not give these two some history together?
> 
> And I made Reece a lesbian, because why not?

Nobody ever told Joanna how much she'd hate arresting herself.

An unpleasant feeling twisted in the pit of her stomach as she slapped the cuffs on the Martinez girl, while O'Brien took care of the no-good dad who'd dragged the kid into this mess. And a mess it was. Breaking and entering, stealing—not to mention dear old Daddy's arrest warrant for killing a guy.

Even with those defiant eyes and smart-ass remarks, Joanna knew a scared little girl when she saw one. God, though, Martinez had a mouth on her. Kid could almost out-swear the best of them, in English _and_ Spanish. She was trying too hard, though. Sounded tough, but didn't even bother to act the part, obeying Joanna's orders without a hint of resistance.

"You're not even half the bitch you think you are," Joanna said. "So you might as well shut your mouth. You're not fooling anyone."

Martinez's mouth snapped shut, and, chastened, she ducked her head and looked away.

Joanna read Martinez her rights in peace, keeping her voice steady through sheer force of will. It was a damn shame to have to cuff anyone under the age of eighteen. She especially ached for the girls, all the ones who didn't realize they could be so much more. Like Martinez. If something didn't change soon, Josefina Martinez didn't stand a chance.

A damn shame.

Once the Martinez duo was safely locked away in the back of the car, O'Brien joined her next to the trunk. "Girl remind you of anyone?" he asked, and wiped the sweat from his brow.

Joanna sighed. "You don't miss anything, do you?"

"There's a reason they aren't makin' this old man retire yet," he said, chuckling, and he pointed toward his eyes with two fingers. "I see all. Especially what people don't want me to see—like who you're thinking of when you look at that kid."

"Is it that obvious?"

O'Brien shrugged, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You don't fool me, Joanna Reece. Tough on the outside, soft and mushy where it matters. Makes you a damn good cop." He grinned at her. "And it's gonna make you damn good in Narcotics, and a damn good detective once you get there."

"Mustache, if you tell me you're proud of me one more time, I'm gonna shave you off."

O'Brien let loose one of his big, booming laughs. "All right, all right," he said. "I get the message. But that's not what I was gonna say. Although..."

Joanna arched an eyebrow at him, but O'Brien wasn't fazed—never was. Instead, he chuckled, and gave her one of the most insincere apologies she'd ever heard. She shook her head.

"That's really not what I was gonna say, though," he said. "What I was gonna say was, 'The kid's got no priors, and she and dad say she's never got in trouble before...'"

"Never got caught, you mean."

"Maybe, maybe not." O'Brien leaned back against the trunk of the car, and cast significant glances between Joanna and the terrified girl in the back seat. Joanna snorted.

"You're about as subtle as a fist to the face," she said, dryly. "You think I should pay it forward."

"It's up to you," he said, nonchalantly, and shrugged a shoulder. "But in my professional opinion? She's got the look. I bet it's her first time. Maybe you can make it her last."

Then, to drive his point home, O'Brien added, "Everyone deserves a second chance, Joanna."

 _Everyone deserves a second chance._ A lump formed in Joanna's throat. He'd said the same thing years ago, when he was a newly-minted officer with the reddest hair she'd ever seen, and she was a smart-ass teenager running in the wrong directions with her big brother, Ty. Everyone deserves a second chance. Where would she be without hers?

Mentally, she shuddered. She could guess. Prison, maybe, or worse. No badge, no self-respect, no happiness. No Sandy waiting for her at home every day, being the best girlfriend anyone could ask for, the best thing that had ever happened to her. No changing people's lives for the better.

Or maybe she would have made it out. She liked to think she would have. But damn did that hard wake-up call make it easier, lighting a much-needed fire under her ass to make her climb to the top.

O'Brien spoke again. " _And_ it'd be one hell of a great way to wrap up your days on the beat—like coming full-circle before moving up, or some shit like that."

It was also one hell of a thing to ask of someone. "What am I supposed to say?" she asked.

"That's up to you, too." O'Brien pushed away from the trunk. "Last chance to say no," he said, already reaching for the door handle, "but you're not going to, are you?"

Well, she never had been one to back down from a challenge. "Let her out."

O'Brien's stupid grin got bigger. "Good call," he said, and opened the door.

The Martinez girl tentatively stepped out of the car, looking like she couldn't believe what was happening, like she might get shoved back in any second. With hesitant steps, she made her way toward Joanna. Dear old Dad tried to follow, and O'Brien slammed the door in his face.

In reply, the dad shouted obscenities and threats, for once sounding like he was concerned about his baby girl. Nothing she and O'Brien hadn't heard before. All Mr. Martinez accomplished was scaring the shit out of his kid. O'Brien calmly told him that the girl would be left with Joanna, not him. It didn't help.

O'Brien shook his head, and turned to Joanna. "I'll be driving around here a bit, giving Father of the Year over here some time to cool off." He clapped Joanna on the shoulder. "Good luck."

He took off, leaving Joanna alone with Martinez. As he drove away, she and Martinez sized each other up. Martinez was just a scrawny slip of a girl, extremely beautiful, without a hint of stupidity in her big, terrified eyes. Tense as a stiff, too, trembling and ready to bolt, sporadically glancing around for a direction to run.

Joanna sighed. "I just want to have a conversation with you, okay, kid?"

"I'm not a kid," Martinez snapped.

Joanna rolled her eyes. "You're sixteen, Martinez. You're a kid. Now, let's go sit over there." She nodded toward the cleanest-looking spot she saw. "We can talk." Martinez clenched her jaw, and remained stubbornly still. "This'll all be a lot easier if you just cooperate with me."

Joanna took a step forward, and, unsurprisingly, Martinez hesitated. "I'm just going to be talking to you," Joanna said. "You don't have to say anything to me—hell, you don't even have to listen. Just sit down with me and let me run my mouth. Shouldn't take too long."

Finally, Martinez nodded, and said, "Okay."

The two of them silently made their way over, and Martinez plopped down with her back to the brick wall, and gave her a pathetic smirk. "What do you want to talk about, Officer?"

"You," Joanna replied, ignoring the weak sass in Martinez's tone. "What you did today, why."

"I don't talk to cops."

"Don't talk to them, or you've been told not to talk to them?" Joanna challenged. Martinez swallowed hard, and looked away. "Okay, we can just sit here for a bit." Joanna sank down beside Martinez, and stretched her legs out on the pavement. "And we can ignore each other."

After a moment, Martinez said, "Fine."

"Fine with me, too."

Just because Martinez wasn't a bad kid didn't mean Joanna could reach her. She hadn't been a teenager in years, didn't have a damn bit of experience with any of them except arresting them and being busy Aunt Joanna. Ricky was the one who'd almost become a psychologist, the one with teenage kids, not her. Why the hell did he think she'd be good at this?

Because Joanna had been there. God, she and Martinez were so much alike. Even Martinez’s preferred name—Joanna had gone by "Jo" when she was a teenager, too. Change the girl's appearance, and it'd be just like looking in a mirror.

Maybe the kid needed to hear her story.

"I grew up in a neighborhood like this," Joanna said. "Mama, Daddy, big brothers, little sister, and me, all crammed in this tiny apartment full of noise and cockroaches that wouldn't go away no matter how much you cleaned. You probably know a bunch of girls like me."

Martinez shrugged, and in that sullen tone teenagers did so well, said, "So?"

"Something was always going on," Joanna said, ignoring her. "I always knew better than to talk to cops, especially the white ones. And you wanna know something? You're about the age I was when I decided I wasn't gonna go down that road.

"Now, that was a hard decision. There I was, sixteen-years-old, scared as hell. Sitting in a cell and thinking, 'God, I don't belong here.' See, I was smart. Did pretty well in school without even trying, teachers loved me, all of that. Really good kid.

" _Then_ I got caught breaking and entering."

Martinez's head whipped around sharply, and her damp eyes were wide. "You too?"

"I sure was," Joanna replied. "With my big brother, not my dad—Daddy's got a messed up back; can't get into shit like that—but yes." She shook her head. "Blood can make us do such stupid things."

Martinez bit her lip, and Joanna went on. "Luckily, Ty and I got arrested by a guy who got that. He saw something in us. Told us if we promised we'd straighten up our acts and made him believe it, he'd let us out and would make it look like we'd never even been there, because everyone deserves a second chance."

"And you weren't suspicious?"

Smart girl. "Oh, I was suspicious as hell," Joanna said. "White cop, black kids. Heard stories of that kind of thing all the time. Didn't trust him one damn bit. But I pretended I did, and I said to myself that if we got through whatever he threw at us, I'd go straight." She nodded in the direction O'Brien had gone. "Now he's my partner. I got damn lucky."

Tilting her head, Joanna studied Martinez's face. There was a sweetness in the girl's eyes. Not naivety—Martinez probably hadn't been naive in a long damn time—but something that could almost be mistaken for innocence, especially with those tears that kept threatening to fall. Good kid, probably. Girl looked sharp as a tack, too, and just as tough as one. Worth fighting for.

Her resolve strengthened, Joanna repeated, "Everyone deserves a second chance."

Martinez frantically blinked her eyes, desperately fighting back tears. "That mean you're gonna let me go?" she asked, sounding hopeful but hesitant.

"Depends on you. My partner's gonna be back soon. Either you're gonna be joining your dad in the back of our car and then probably heading to juvie, or we'll all forget you were ever here. Your choice, Martinez."

Martinez sniffled. "I've never been in trouble before," she said, and her trembling voice cracked. "I-I didn't wanna help him, but he's my dad, y'know? And we really need the money, and I just..." She sniffled again. "He said we wouldn't get caught. He promised."

Shaking her head, Martinez muttered, "I never should've listened to him."

"No you should not have. But you're not the only one who's been there. My brother did the same damn thing to me." And her father. Joanna wondered how many promises Victor Martinez had made that he couldn't—or wouldn't—keep. As many as Joseph Reece, or Ty?

Instead of asking questions, Joanna gave Martinez a wry smile and said, "Usually I wouldn't tell a teenager to disobey a parent, but in this case, I think I have to make an exception," and pulled her keys from her pocket. "Now hold out your hands."

Quietly, Martinez did as she was told, and said, "Thank you," in a small voice as Joanna unlocked the cuffs.

"Don't thank me with words," Joanna said. "Thank me with actions."

"Right," Martinez scoffed, shaking the discomfort out of her wrists and hands. "Actions."

"I know it sounds hard," Joanna said, "and it is hard. But just do better. That's all I'm asking. You don't have to become a saint. Just stop listening to your dad, stop getting yourself into trouble, and start doing better."

To give Martinez a chance to digest the words, Joanna paused, and they settled into silence, broken only by the police radio on her hip. She half-listened for anything of interest, but mostly focused on Martinez, who was staring into space as tears quietly trickled down her cheeks. Joanna wondered what the girl was thinking. Were the same thoughts running through Martinez's mind that once went through Joanna's own—the same fear, the same shame, the same guilt? Was Martinez looking at the bleak future ahead, or formulating a plan to escape it? Was she planning to try to knock Joanna on the head and run like hell?

O'Brien's car passed by, and O'Brien gave Joanna a questioning look. She shook her head, hoping he'd understand it meant _Not done yet_ , instead of, _She's not listening_. Nodding once, he drove on.

After a while, Martinez spoke. "I don't have to promise to become a cop, right?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Nothing wrong with being a cop," Joanna said. "You can do a lot of good with a badge. The pay's crap, and, yeah, some of the guys are real bastards, especially to girls, but this thing?" She held up her badge. "Still gets you a hell of a lot of respect."

She put her badge away, and, with a sly smile, she added, "And taking down some of these punks you run into every day? _God,_ is it satisfying."

Quietly, Martinez laughed. "That does sound good."

"It is," Joanna said, in a more serious tone. "And it's a lot better than the road you're heading down."

Martinez immediately sobered. Joanna didn't have to say what road that was. Ignorance, poverty, maybe a bad husband or boyfriend, a few kids, a habit. Martinez probably knew just as many people like that as Joanna did, a cousin or a sibling or a best friend—or all of the above—who couldn't keep their head above water anymore.

"It's hard," Joanna said. "I'm not gonna lie to you. Unlearning all your dad's taught you is hard as hell. Leaving the only life you've ever known is hard as hell. But becoming the woman you want to be, the woman you know deep down you can be? It's worth it."

She met Martinez's eyes, and unable to help her curiosity, asked, "Who do you want to be, Jo Martinez?"

Martinez looked down. "I don't know," she admitted. Then, meeting Joanna's eyes again, Martinez gave Joanna a faint half-smile and added, "But not this."

Satisfied, Joanna said, "That's a good start."

Another silence settled between them, Joanna letting Martinez think. The idea of the future was overwhelming at Martinez's age—hell, it was still overwhelming at Joanna's. Martinez had a lot to chew on, and would probably choke on those thoughts at least a thousand times. It'd be better to let her concentrate on that for a bit.

Minutes passed, then Martinez broke the silence, asking, "What happened to your brother?"

Joanna gestured to her badge. "He's a detective," she replied. "Major case squad. And one hell of a father. Wife's a teacher, son's into jazz and every instrument he can get his hands on, daughter sings like an angel. He made it out, and he's happy."

Martinez smiled softly. "That's good," she said. "And you? Besides being a cop, I mean."

"Still looking for my happily ever after," Joanna said. Her thoughts drifted toward Sandy, curled up on Joanna's ratty old couch with her sock-clad feet tucked beneath her, reading a book and absently scratching one of the dogs behind their floppy ears. Maybe someday, they'd get to be a family like that, too. "Think I might be getting closer, though."

The car pulled up again, and this time, it stopped. Joanna got to her feet.

"You'll be okay, Martinez," she said, and smiled down at the girl. "It's hard, but you'll be all right."

She could tell Martinez didn't believe it, not yet. But she would.

And who knew? Maybe she'd see Martinez carrying a badge of her own someday.


End file.
